


a change in pressure

by finkpishnets



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: James calls Steve Esteban all the damn time, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, also Joker/EDI, background Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, even in his own head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing is, James doesn't get jealous. Which is all great, seriously, except for the part where he pretty much wants to shoot something every time Esteban gets that <i>look</i> on his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a change in pressure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



> I played around with so many Steve-based fics, and then Jimmy Vega decided to take over which probably shouldn't be a surprise. I really hope you like this little fluffy (with a dose of angst, oops, how did that happen?) fic, dear recipient. ♡

Okay, the thing is, James doesn’t get jealous. Oh, sure, he gets pissed when Shepard leaves him behind mission after mission, and when he’s not invited to join tactic meetings even though he’s one of the few primary crew members that’s _actually_ Alliance trained. But _jealous?_ Nah. That’s the kind of insecure shit he’s never had time for.

Which is all great, seriously, except for the part where he pretty much wants to shoot something every time Esteban gets that _look_ on his face. 

Cortez’s crush on Shepard is a secret to no one, even if it is muddled up with some hardcore guilt and the kind of morbid shit James tries not to think about too much when he’s not on the ground, faced with bodies ‘round every corner. He’s cool with it at first, thinks it’s kinda great that someone’s able to get that haunted glaze out of Esteban’s eyes and even better that it’s the hero of the goddamn universe, even if he won’t say any of that aloud without a fuck load of Asari hard liquor in his system. Shepard says the right things and draws Cortez out of his shell, and that’s long overdue in James’ opinion; it doesn’t go any further, though, and whilst James is all for getting his fiesta on, Shepard’s busy trying to save the galaxy and help old ladies cross the street or what the hell ever, so it makes sense he isn’t up for those kinds of distractions.

That is, until Major Alenko comes back onboard and James realizes that, _no_ , the Commander was just waiting for the _right_ distraction. There’s this _tension_ when they’re in the same room, and it’s not like James has walked in on them fucking or anything, but that would probably be better than this weird non-verbal shit. And, well, if _he’s_ realized it, when he plain doesn’t care who’s getting some unless it’s him, then Esteban’s _definitely_ noticed.

And yet, still with the lingering looks and entire conversations starting “Shepard says.”

So, yeah. 

James would love to go all Krogan on _someone’s_ ass.

  
  
**+**  
  


“I don’t understand the problem,” EDI says, and, okay, getting drunk with the ship’s A.I. in the crew lounge is probably going to come back and bite him somewhere painful later.

“He’s _into_ him,” James repeats because apparently his mouth is a fucking traitor, “and Loco’s into _Alenko_.” 

“I see,” EDI says, and then after a pause, “Correction, I do not. Should I get Doctor T’Soni? She seems well educated in these areas of study.”

James waves a hand at her and then reaches for a bottle of something bright orange and possibly fatal to humans. “Nah, just— What the hell do I _do?_ Esteban has to _see_ it, right?”

EDI’s silent for a moment, processing. “Ah,” she says eventually, nodding. “Jeff informs me that your confusion is due to an emotional attachment to Lieutenant Cortez. Is that correct?”

James blinks. “ _Joker’s_ listening?”

“Oh,” EDI says, “Jeff says I should not have told you that. I apologize.”

If Joker spills any of this he’s going to wake up to the wrong end of a Claymore, James swears. He’s ninety-nine percent sure EDI can fly this ship without a smartass human pilot anyway.

“If it helps,” EDI says when James gives up pouring the booze into a glass and just starts necking the damn bottle, “Jeff’s body language has been known to display these same signs when I am having a conversation with someone else in Purgatory. I believe it to be jealousy.”

James snorts and wonders if Chakwas will make him sit through a ton of uncomfortable tests if he falls asleep on the bar again. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Alright,” EDI says, which is pretty damn nice of her considering they both know it’s a barefaced lie.

  
  
**+**  
  


“So I hear the Doc had you holed up in the med bay all day,” Cortez says when James eventually makes it back down to the armory, head still pounding because Chakwas was happy to prod him about in the name of “science” but refused to give him anything to help his goddamn hangover. “Get into her brandy?”

“That was once,” James says, “and how was I supposed to know it was a tradition thing?”

Esteban smirks. “Didn’t it have a ‘don’t touch’ label on?”

“That was addressed to Joker,” James says, waving his hand dismissively and wondering if Scars has applied the new mods to his rifle yet. “Totally different.”

Even with the earth burning and the end of the world shit, James loves this, loves hanging out in the shuttle bay with Cortez and all the good toys and pretending that life really is as easy as sparring and banter. It’s not so different from when they first met except that Esteban’s thoughts back then had been solely for Robert, whereas now when the conversation drifts off James assumes he’s thinking about Loco and tries not to break something.

  
  
**+**  
  


James is pretty sure he’s not Esteban’s type.

Of course, Esteban’s not exactly _his_ type either, though since his type has essentially come down to _female_ that’s not exactly hard.

Cortez is the exception to a ton of fucking rules though, and James doesn’t know when that started happening though he has the awful suspicion it may have been all the way back on Fehl-Prime, when a soldier he can’t even remember the name of now had said, “Hey Cortez, come meet Vega!” Back then Esteban was a different person - they all were - and the first time he’d called James out on his bullshit was probably the first time James had really started paying attention to the way he drifted into Cortez’s vicinity more often than not, always a joke or an insult or a challenge sitting ready at the end of his tongue. 

Except back then there had also been Robert; James only met the guy once, but Esteban had looked at him like he’d hung the damn stars, and when James heard the news about Ferris Fields he’d been so relieved to find out Esteban was alive that it’d taken him a moment to realize that he wouldn’t be again, not really. 

The first time James had seen him aboard the Normandy he’d wanted to grab him and not let go, which was terrifying and impossible considering Earth was being torn apart below their feet, and anyway, there were far too many ghosts in the way back then. 

Then came Commander Shepard and a purpose and _hope_ , and James wanted to fight his way through the universe and also make Steve Cortez smile.

So, yeah, maybe he _is_ jealous, but it’s only because Shepard managed it first.

And Shepard is _definitely_ Esteban’s type.

  
  
**+**  
  


James doesn’t know what exactly went down on the Citadel, but one minute Shepard and Alenko are dancing around each other with their weirdly careful nostalgia talks, and the next they’re disappearing up the elevator to the Commander’s cabin with shy smiles and a bottle of something damn expensive. 

“ _Well_ ,” Liara says, dragging the word out and looking pleased, and James is ready to sweet talk as much of the story out of her as he can before he spots Esteban disappearing back down to the shuttle bay.

“Shit,” he says instead, already following. “See you later, Doc.”

Esteban’s playing around with the Kodiac when he finds him, and James stumbles over what to say in his own head before he blurts out, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Cortez blinks. “What for?”

“Loco,” James says, nodding towards the elevator. “I know that you—”

“That I—?” Esteban looks amused, and James wonders if he’s having, like, a weird meltdown or something. “Are we talking about my love life, Mister Vega?”

“No,” James says automatically.

“Okay,” Esteban says, and he still looks like he’s fighting back a smile which is _definitely_ not the reaction to any kind of rejection James has ever felt. “Good. Because if we _were_ I’d have to tell you that the Commander is a good friend and, sure, I find him attractive, and yes, there was a moment there when I thought _maybe_ , but I saw this coming like everyone else, and besides—” He breaks off and shrugs, looking back at the Kodiac.

“Besides?” James says.

“ _Besides_ ,” Esteban says, “dealing with one Alliance hothead is more than enough.”

“ _Hey_ ,” James objects, and when Esteban laughs it's a hell of a relief.

  
  
**+**  
  


“You appear less troubled,” EDI says the next time they’re out in the field together, Shepard twenty feet ahead of them, gun ready, and James wonders if most people have to weigh up whether husk attacks or relationship talks are worse.

“Yeah,” he says. “Everything’s cool.”

EDI hums. “I’m pleased to hear that,” she says, “though I’m somewhat surprised that you and Lieutenant Cortez have not yet entered into a mutually beneficial sexual relationship.”

Shepard makes an odd noise and doesn’t look back at them, and James has the temporary hope that a thresher maw will show up and put him out of his misery.

One doesn’t, but they are overrun by breeders a couple of minutes later.

Thank God for small mercies.

  
  
**+**  
  


James genuinely likes Shepard; he’s an unstoppable soldier, a good mentor, and the only guy James would want to follow into the fight ahead.

That being said, the next time he decides to go commune with the fucking sea gods he can damn well do it alone.

Losing contact with the team was terrifying, and when they’d finally reappeared, shell-shocked and soaked to the bone, Esteban had been scraped up and exhausted enough not to kick up a fight when James practically carried him to the med bay. Once Chakwas had cleared him and told him to get some rest and maybe try not to mend a shuttle whilst being shot at again for a while, James had helped him back to the crew quarters and hovered in the corridor whilst he showered.

“I’m _fine_ , James,” Esteban says, and James lets out a laugh that wouldn’t fool a varren.

“Sure,” he says, “‘course you are. But if you weren’t—”

Esteban’s eyes soften, and James knows he’s giving too much away here but for a moment back there he’d been so sure—

“ _James_ ,” Esteban says again, and James isn’t sure he’s ever heard his given name twice in a row like this. He drops down onto the bed next to Cortez and stares at his hands until one of Cortez’s cups his elbow. “It’s going to get a lot worse than this,” he says, “you know that right?”

“Yeah,” James says, because he’s not stupid. He’s been facing the collectors for years now and been part of the Normandy crew long enough to see the worst of the universe shape around them; none of that makes it any fucking easier, though.

“Do you—” Esteban starts, pausing to swallow. “Do you want to stay?”

It’s a huge question that James doesn’t need any time to answer, kicking off his boots and sitting with his back against the headboard as Esteban slides under the sheets. He’s still shivering from the cold, and James shuffles closer and lets him steal whatever heat he can, thinking that he’d probably let Steve Cortez take everything he wanted from him and more, and isn’t that just a goddamn terrifying thought.

  
  
**+**  
  


“Um,” Alenko says, halfway through James taking all of his money with a truly great set of cards, “so, you and Lieutenant Cortez, huh?”

“If Joker put you up to this, I’ll lock him in life support with Buggy,” James says, playing another hand.

Alenko has the good sense to look embarrassed, though shacking up with Loco has clearly rubbed off on him in more than just the fun ways. “Shepard mentioned something,” he says, shrugging. “He and Cortez are close, apparently.”

“Yeah,” James says, and ignores the twisty feeling in his chest before he realizes Alenko’s running a hand across the back of his neck, a tell if ever he’s seen one. “Oh man,” he says, “you’re jealous.”

“Of course not,” Alenko scoffs, and James laughs a little hysterically.

“Yeah, you _are_ ,” he says, and damn, they’ve come a long way in the last few months. “For badass guys, we’re pretty fucking ridiculous, mi amigo.”

Alenko sighs and throws his cards on the table. “Remember when we were just soldiers following commands?”

“Kinda,” James says. “Be honest though, this is better.”

Alenko huffs out a laugh and reaches for another beer, sliding one across the table to James. “Can we never tell anyone about this conversation?”

“Roger that, Major,” James says, and clinks bottles to seal the deal.

It’s not like he wants anyone to know how pathetic he is anyway, but hey, it’s nice to know he’s not alone.

Then again, at least Alenko’s getting some.

  
  
**+**  
  


In the end, it’s taken out of James’ hands.

“Lieutenant,” he hears EDI say over the comms, “I was wondering, are you unaware of Lieutenant Vega’s affections or do you simply not return them?”

There’s a long pause and James wonders if the Reapers have already won and this is his own personal hell, and then Scars coughs politely and he realizes _everyone is listening_ , and fuck. _Fuck_. 

“EDI,” Esteban says, “I really don’t think—”

“My apologies,” EDI says, and James can picture Joker hissing abort directives into her ear. “It is only that Lieutenant Vega and I discussed the matter several weeks ago and I was surprised at the lack of productive developments.” 

“Seriously,” Esteban says, and his voice is clipped like he’s trying to keep his calm intact, “EDI stop.”

“Could we save this conversation for a time when Cerberus aren’t busy setting up turrets a stone’s throw away?” Shepard butts in, and James has never been so glad to serve under him as when he starts firing off orders and not giving anyone time to do anything but reload or get out of range.

It’s lucky James is a goddamn professional or he may have considered just walking in front of one anyway.

  
  
**+**  
  


It’s not easy to avoid someone aboard a spaceship.

James grabs hold of any excuse to change up his schedule; he helps Traynor with retrofits and Chakwas with inventory and doesn’t make any plays to get Shepard to take him on missions because at least the Normandy has corners to hide ‘round. 

He kinda wants to punch _himself_.

Maybe that’s why he’s not surprised when Esteban eventually tracks him down.

“This has got to stop,” he says, and James nods even though he can’t bring himself to look up from where he’s cleaning his rifle. Not yet.

“Yeah, I know.”

Esteban pulls out the chair opposite and sits down. “Is it true?” he asks, and he sounds cautious, like he’s waiting to have the rug pulled out from under him, which is pretty hilarious since James is self aware enough to know he’s about as subtle as a damn rock.

“Sure,” he says, because he’s done acting like a freaking coward. “Yeah.”

When James looks up Esteban’s eyes are flicking over him, searching for any sign of a lie, and James waits him out.

“Why didn’t you _say_ anything?” he says eventually, and James huffs out a laugh, shrugging.

“I dunno,” he says, “you were _married_ , I wasn’t gonna just come out with it.”

“I was—?” Esteban says, eyes widening as it sinks it. “ _James_.”

He thinks he could get used to hearing his name out of Esteban’s lips, and he wonders if he shouldn’t start repaying the favor - shouldn’t start thinking of him as _Steve, Steve, Steve_ \- except ‘Esteban’ has always been their thing, less a nickname and more a term of endearment even way back when. It’s as close as James is ever going to get to a pet name, and he thinks Cortez gets that.

“I’m not your type,” he blurts out when the silence has stretched on too long, and Esteban sucks in a breath. 

“You’re an idiot,” he says.

“Thanks,” James says, and if he sounds a little hurt then screw it, it’s not like he hasn’t humiliated himself already.

“ _No_ ,” Esteban says, “you’re an _idiot_ ,” and then he kisses him.

There’s a table between them, James still has his rifle clutched in one hand, and the whole thing should be a huge fucking mess, except Esteban, Cortez, _Steve_ , is kissing him and they’ll have plenty of time to do all the romantic shit later, right now this is about proving a point or several.

“Am I, like, the consolation prize because Loco chose Alenko?” he asks when they pull apart for air, and, yeah, he’s ruining the moment but it also feels really freaking important right now.

The look Esteban gives him is startlingly gentle. “No, Mister Vega,” he says, running his knuckles over the curve of James’ cheek, “you’ve never been second best.”

James thinks of Robert and Fehl-Prime and bright eyes and knows it’s at least partially a lie but maybe less of one than he’s always thought. 

“It’s still the end of the world,” he says, because it _is_ , whether it sticks or not.

Esteban laughs and stands, hauling James up by his tank top. “So shut up and stop wasting time,” he says, and hell, James has always been good at taking orders.


End file.
